Merry Christmas, companions one and all
by CatsForLivvy
Summary: On the 1st day of Christmas my true love gave to me a blank slate and unused chalk. On the 2nd day, the unique pain of a friend close, unable to be touched. On the 3rd day, cold cups of tea and pitiful glances. On the 4th day, quiet days and unspoken greetings. On the 5th day, unshed tears and broken promises. On the 6th day, a Christmas present I could only wish for.


**_December 20_** ** _th_**

The Tardis is strung up with tinsel, the twinkles hanging lazily over the rails. Christmas lights twirled up the centre column, sparkling and glowing warmly. The Doctor stands alone, faced away from all the decoration, in his finest suit. "Christmas time, mistletoe and wine." He sings joylessly into the empty air. The chalk has stayed still in its holder for months now, unused and grimy. The chalkboard is coated in a thick layer of dust. No matter how much he stares at it, he cannot make that chalk move once more. His imagination has gone dim and lifeless, and once again he holds no-one in his companionship. He stays like this as long as he can bear it, pale and cold and empty. "Merry Christmas Clara."

 ** _December 21_** ** _st_** ****

The screen of the Tardis is lit with the joys of a family preparing for Christmas. This and the light from the column are the only things lighting the Tardis now, the only things casting shadows upon the Doctor's face. And yet, many more shadows dance across his face. His suit has already started to look rumpled, being creased in one position for so long. He smiles sadly as he watches the two lives on screen, Amy forcing Rory into a gaudy and large turkey hat, Rory ducking and laughing, dodging her attempts desperately. A few friends are gathered around them, food and music and warmth fills the scene, which is swelling with obvious happiness. The Doctor sits, some way away, locked in his Tardis, wishing that he could see them, even one last time. "Merry Christmas, Amy. Rory."

 ** _December 22_** ** _nd_** ****

Donna rushes about the shops, trawling her husband along behind her, prattling happily. "-and this 5p bag charge, it's ridiculous! Especially around this time of year! Do they expect me to remember all my bags when I'm doing my Christmas shopping? I bloody well hope not, I mean-" She trails off, dipping into another shop, handing her bags back for whoever else to take. He smiles from a nearby café, cup of tea sat in front of him, going cold. The waitresses watch nearby, pitying looks on their faces. "It's such a shame." They whisper behind their hands. "An old man like that, alone around this time of year." His suit was now dirty at the edges, fraying slightly. It looks almost as tired as he does. He swallows his tea in one gulp and smiles, closing his eyes and turning his face to skies as he walks out of the door. "Merry Christmas, Donna."

 ** _December 23_** ** _rd_** ****

UNIT American headquarters remains grimly the same for the holidays. No tinsel, no days off, no twinkling stars or lights. They focus on the disasters that tend to happen around Christmas. Martha paces by billboards and large computer screens, frowning. "Something should be happening, why isn't it happening?" A man to her left smirks and scoffs, silently taken aback by her. She turns to him and raises her eyebrows. "Got something to say?"

"That's supposed to be a good thing, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am, I hate that." She spots someone out of the corner of her eye, somebody not supposed to be there. When she turns back, there is a swish of a coat and tails, and the person is gone. As they go, a whisper lingers in the air. "Merry Christmas, Martha."

 ** _December 24_** ** _th_** ****

A figure at the end of the pier, closing her eyes against the wind, has tears trailing down her face. Just once every year, she comes back to this point. She's not quite sure why, this time, she chose Christmas Eve, but she did and now she is here. The drive up was filled with dull and dreary roads, and now the sea makes no nod to the joyous nature of the season. Rose crouches down, dangling her fingers in the sea. She is sobbing now, trying not to let it show too visibly. Another figure walks over to join her, wrapping their arms around her, before helping her up and turning her away. Jackie leads her back, back down the pier, into the car, and away from this spot. He looks out, eyes betraying the years his face could never show. The Doctor finally lets a tear slip from his face, slowly, calmly, without anger on his face. "Merry Christmas, Rose."

 ** _December 25_** ** _th_** ****

River Song smiles as she opens the door, dressed in a beautiful red cloak with white fur trim. "I thought we'd stopped doing this. Christmas, birthdays and anniversaries. They get complicated, don't they? Messy." The Doctor smiles and takes his glasses off, still turned away, a Santa hat sat at a jaunty angle on his head, the bright colours offset by his almost sad expression. "Nobody deserves to be alone at Christmas." He says, voice gravelly, his hands wistfully trailing over the controls. River smiles behind him, tilting her head and letting her expression go unguarded. "You said it, sweetheart." Tears form in both their eyes, but neither let them fall.

"Merry Christmas, River."

"Merry Christmas, Doctor."


End file.
